Harry Potter and the Underrated Slytherin
by M477TF revisited
Summary: Harry Potter isn't always the key to the whole thing...
1. Harry's Transformation

I know it starts off a little slow, but fear not! Read on, it get's better around chapter 4-ish (you still need to read 1-3 to get a feel for the story).

Thanks to 'lothmeldo' for inspiring me to give writing another shot, even if it is hugely shit.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Before I start I would just like to acknowledge my serious lack of writing ability and assure you that your reviews make a huge difference to the quality of the story. There might be a mild slash scene in a later chapter, I haven't decided yet. As always, I don't own Harry Potter, JKR does. If you feel you need to flame, please do. I find them amusing. Hell, just enjoy!

* * *

AN: Summer after OOTP...  
  
Petunia Dursley had been cleaning extra thoroughly today, her mind was elsewhere. Actually, it was on the letter which had been sent home shortly before they had met Harry Potter off the train. It had told her and her husband not to discuss the letter with the boy, but to be more lenient with him as something had happened shortly before the end of term which required a lot of healing. This was, of course, something which was deeply against the grain of usual treatment of the boy. Surprisingly, it was Vernon which had enforced this new style of handling, but only after the encounter with 'that red-haired family' and their accomplices at the train station. In fact, such was the level of reform that her little Dudley had been spending all of his waking hours out of the house. Indeed, something which Mrs-Number-Seven had mentioned only yesterday.  
  
That was why when he stepped foot out of his bedroom, it was not Dudley's loose old clothes that appeared through the doorway, but a long pair of brand new black jeans and a big black T-shirt. Nor was it the sound of Hedwig's screeching which was the dominant sound echoing down the hall, but the angry roar of some heavy music. This wasn't The Boy Who Lived ambling into the kitchen to beg his Uncle, this was Harry Potter the goth storming in to confront 'that fat bastard' slouching at the kitchen table.  
  
Harry's transformation was a complete shock not only to his Aunt and Uncle, but to himself as well. His hair was slightly longer than he usually kept it and he had done his nails black too. At last he was allowed to express his anger. His way of thinking had altered too, Lord Voldemort was no longer 'that bad man' to him, he was merely a piece of shit. A piece of shit that he was going to destroy. To be completely truthful with himself, Harry wasn't really that heartless and angry, this was merely his way of coping with the information. But anyway...  
  
'You're takin' me to London on Thursday.'  
  
'I'm doing no such thing if you talk to me like that!'  
  
'Listen to me you fat fuck, you take me to King's Cross and you don't have to see me for eleven fucking months.' -Harry mocked a thoughtful expression- 'Unless you want me to stay, of course...' and with that he turned on his heel before his Uncle could speak and left the room, leaving a scarlet Uncle Vernon behind him.

* * *

'Harry! Hey, Harry!' At the sound of that voice Harry had cheered up immediately, you can laugh it all away with Ron. Harry had sauntered through the barrier to platform 9¾ with one minute to spare. Having half- dragged, half-kicked his trunk into the compartment where Ron and Hermione were sitting he sat down. The train had already left the station. Hermione had already remarked upon his appearance with mixed humour, disgust, and understanding. Ron had merely stated that he looked cool and continued trying to stuff Pigwidgeon into a battered old cage.  
  
'Ron?' 

'Uh huh?'

'How come I didn't see your parents on the platform?' There were more people than usual clamouring to see him on the station platform this year, but Mrs Weasley was not among them.  
  
'Oh, Dad's nearly always working now, and Mum's at Grimmaul...I mean...um...'  
  
''S OK Ron, I don't have a problem with Grimmauld Place.'  
  
'Oh, good. I mean, you never know, do you? Whether someone'll be alright? With something like that?'

'I said don't worry'  
  
The tone took a definite upturn after that. That was until a certain Slytherin turned up. It was not unexpected, but something was. Draco Malfoy was on his own when he slid the compartment door open and the usual sneer was not quite in place. Despite his long-lasting emnity with Malfoy, he couldn't help noticing that he was in a tight black shirt and had a silver choker, making him appear rather more attractive than usual. Harry though, knew that looks weren't everything.  
  
'Fuck off Malfoy.'  
  
'Fuck you, Potter!'  
  
'What the fuck d'you want then?'  
  
'Calm down, Potter, I only wanted to tell you that Professor Dumbledore wants to see you after the feast.'  
  
'Why're you tellin' me?'  
  
''Cause he got to me first. Otherwise you'd be tellin' me.'  
  
'Whatever Malfoy, you can leave now.' Harry really wasn't in the mood for Malfoy's shit tonight.  
  
'...'  
  
'WHAT?'  
  
-sigh- 'Nothin'...'  
  
Harry slammed the compartment door shut and turned to see Hermione looking reproachful.  
  
'Oh, Harry, why do you always have to be so aggressive? He wanted to tell you something else but you wouldn't let him.'  
  
'Anything Malfoy knows isn't worth knowing' said Ron. Harry didn't say anything because of the way Hermione looked at Ron, but he privately agreed.

* * *

Okay! How was that? Or should I say, how shit was that? Please rr whether it's good or bad, how I can improve, etc. I know the chappie's are short but they'll get longer, I'm just testing the water really.


	2. The Fight That Never Happened

DISCLAIMER: I would just like assure you that your reviews make a huge difference to the quality of the story. As always, I don't own Harry Potter, JKR does. If you feel you need to flame, please do. I find them amusing. Hell, just enjoy!

* * *

As the train slowed, they all began to change into their school things, and once again Hermione berated Harry on his disrespect for smartness. His tie was so short it was barely visible, and his shirt was untucked but Harry didn't care. Why was there so much hype about the house cup anyway? It didn't _do_ anything; it just meant that Malfoy was quieter than usual for a few days at the end of the year. He'd given up giving a fuck.

In the usual hustle and bustle of getting off the train Harry had generally done a good job in previous years of sticking with Hermione and Ron, but this year was the exception. They finally did meet up again just as Harry was climbing into a carriage, making a point of not looking at the Thestrals. Hermione was blushing furiously and Ron was looking at his feet. Try as he might, however, he couldn't get anything out of either of them with respect to what had happened in the few minutes they had been separated.

On the way into the great hall they met their fellow Gryffindors, who were deep in conversation about who the next Defence teacher could be. They found seats along the Gryffindor table and peered up at the staff table, but saw no new faces. That was when Professor Dumbledore rose to address the school;

'I would usually at this time speak to you all about the year to come and current affairs in the world. I am sure you all know the seriousness of this new threat to our way of life but-' here he breathed a heavy sigh '-but I am sure that you have all already chosen a side.' Harry noticed, as he did at the end of last year, how strained and old the headmaster looked. 'Therefore I may as well just let you get on with the feast. There is but one more thing left to say; please welcome your new potions teacher...' and with that and a grand sweep of his arm he indicated a large woman at the very end of the staff table.

Hermione looked very shocked at this. Something triggered in the back of Harry's mind too-"_But Snape's still here..."_

''Sup 'Mione?' but before she could explain, Professor Dumbledore had continued;

'...as no doubt many of you have already deduced, this means that Professor Snape is lacking a teaching subject. There is a reason for this, however. That reason is that Professor Snape has kindly consented to become the new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher.'

A stunned silence followed this statement; almost every jaw in the Great Hall had dropped. Snape was looking very superior.

'So please give a warm hand to Professor Snape and Professor Polly Thompson.'

Everyone was quiet as they went up the stairs to bed, having stuffed themselves stupid. And it was only as Harry stopped to help Neville out of a trick step in the marble staircase that the crowd brought Harry and Hermione together.

'Why're you still here Harry? I thought that you were supposed to be in Dumbledore's office?'

'Oh, fuck! Sorry Neville, gotta go.' and with that he sped off in the direction of Dumbledore's office, knocking a throng of first-years back into the great hall, which they had spent the last five minutes fighting through the crowd to get out of.

When he reached the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office there was no-one about, this was well away from any Great-Hall-To-Common-Room shortcuts. He faced the gargoyle and spoke purposefully to it;

'I'm not going to waste my time saying the name of every sweet under the sun, Dumbledore asked me to come here after the feast, so let me in.' The stone did not move. He began to wonder whether or not Malfoy had set him up for this, and began to curse himself for not seeing it sooner. Then he began to curse Malfoy. He continued in this vain as he began to walk back to the common room.

'You'll do _what_ next time you see me, Potter?' Harry spun round immediately.

'I said I'll kill you, but kickin your arse'll do...' said Harry forcefully, and with this he started back towards Malfoy.

'I heard what you said, but I'm afraid that's not possible, Potter.'

'Why not? I think it's finally time to give you what's been coming to you for years, Thou Shalt Not Fuck With Me...' Harry's fist was raised and ready, he would have floored Malfoy, if it wasn't for a long set of fingers closing round Harry's wrist as he drew it back. The owner of those fingers would have had some of Harry's mind too, if he hadn't realised at the last minute that the owner was Dumbledore.

'Not today, Mr Potter' was all he said, then 'Follow me, you two.'

Dumbledore led them up the stairs to his office, after muttering 'Canary Cream' to the stone gargoyle, and deep down Harry noted an appreciation for how successful the twins seemed to be in their new business. This thought was dwarfed by all the others that had just sprung up in his mind, the most predominant of which was the fact that he had just nearly hit Dumbledore. The rage was still boiling, and he had to calm himself down, before he could speak. Thankfully, this was much easier than it could have been, mainly because Malfoy wasn't smirking at his misfortune. Probably, Harry thought, because he had just been the sole attention of his full temper. Yes, he thought, it felt good to be feared by Malfoy.

As they entered the office, Harry noticed that most of the portraits on the wall were attentive. Phineas Nigellus was out of his frame leaving a picture of a handsome leather chair. Fawkes was off on some errand and Dumbledore's office was just as Harry remembered it. Too many things had been relived in this office. Dumbledore spoke again, bringing Harry out of his reverie;

'I haven't time to drop hints, I will be direct. I know that you two have had a lot of friction in the past but this will not do. You may be completely honest to me in this office. Harry, if you could fight Mr Malfoy, where would the ideal place be? No? Mr Malfoy, do you have a place in mind?'

'Yes sir. But sir, I don't understand why...'

'All will become clear. Please place your wand tip on your temple then place the thought into this...' Dumbledore produced his Pensieve. Harry merely stood watching, completely nonplussed. Dumbledore continued in the same tone;

'Listen carefully both of you. Confrontation between you cannot stand this year, for reasons I will divulge after this little experiment. You will now have this chance to vent your angers and get it all out of your systems. You will both touch the contents of this Pensieve, then you will proceed to assault each other as far as you see fit. When you have finished I will collect you. You will speak of this to no-one. This is your only chance to do so, after which you will be civil and respectful to each other with no exceptions, understand?'

Malfoy was looking as confused and stunned as Harry felt, however he assented and touched the swirling silver in the bowl. His body stiffened but he did not fall. He turned to Dumbledore.

'Mr Malfoy's mind is waiting for you Harry.' and he gestured toward the bowl. Harry put his hand forward, careful not to touch Malfoy's, and the now-familiar navel wrench came. When he settled down, he was standing in a large tower-room, about the size of the Gryffindor common-room. Malfoy was seated on a huge four-poster double bed.

'Took your time, Potter.'

'Where are we?' Harry saw no reason to cease being cold toward Malfoy.

'You really are slow, Potter. We are in one of my memories.'

'I said _where_, arsehole.'

'Actually, shit-face, we're in my last memory of my bedroom at the Manor.'

'I don't fuckin wanna be 'ere!'

'Too bad Potter, you should've thought of one of your own damn memories. Anyway, I thought the floor space would come in handy.' Malfoy got up off his bed and walked to stand in the middle of the space, which was right in front of Harry.

'What for?'

'For this-' In a two-hit the speed of lightning, Malfoy shot a hand forwards and clipped Harry's face, then as Harry flung his arms up (far too late) he snapped his other fist into Harry's stomach, causing him to double-up. Harry regained his composure as Malfoy pelted the back of his head repeatedly. He flung his fist out as he straightened up, and swung it straight up into Malfoy's face. They continued in this vain for a while, neither gaining much of an advantage. When Dumbledore appeared they were apart, each fighting to remain on his feet, never taking his eyes off the other. Neither knew whether they were covered in their blood, or the other's.

'That will do, boys. I trust you are now satisfyingly exhausted?'

'For now...'

'I suppose so, sir...'

'Then shake hands and we can depart.' Maybe it was the exhaustion, but Harry wasn't as opposed to the action as he usually would have been. He had just enjoyed a good fight, with a capable opponent. When they shook, he noticed that Malfoy too, was soaked in sweat. His speech lacked a lot of hostility when he spoke next;

'It's a weird thing, but a bit of pain and total exhaustion can feel very _cleansing_, very satisfying, no?'

'Know what, Potter? I agree.'

'Name's Harry...'

When they came out of the Pensieve, Harry was surprised at how little he felt the pain, and the lack of blood. Malfoy was approaching him;

'Listen, Harry...'

'Save it, I think the Professor wants to talk with us' he jerked his head towards Dumbledore, then sat down.

'Indeed correct, Mr Potter. Now, to the reason you're both here. I think it best if we start with your little adventure last week, Mr Malfoy. If it's alright, I wish you to repeat it yourself, for I may myself have missed important points. Please don't worry about offending anyone here, just tell it as it was.'

'Yes sir...' Draco sighed, looking downcast and numb. He lifted his face to Harry's and then began. 'As you know, my father is deeply involved with all levels of criminal and dark proceedings. He was an old Death Eater, and when I was young he showed me the Dark Mark on his arm. He explained what it meant and why it was there. He has often said since that he missed the old days of roaming the country with the Dark Lord. He wished the Mark on his arm would burn once more, and made no secret that he would be the first to rejoin the Dark ranks. When it did, Mother says he jumped from the dinner table, gave one cry of exclamation and Disapparated. Now, the Manor has always been an evil place. I was brought up as a follower of the Dark ways; I have always known that if the Dark Lord ever returned I would have the Dark Mark burned onto me as soon as possible. Only one thing occurred to me; if my father was always so strong, why did he choose to follow someone else?' Malfoy changed his tone and continued.

'It's fun being the bad guy, but I never wanted to be evil. Father will be out of Azkaban soon, and my time away from his influence has given me the freedom to make my own choices. As soon as Father escapes, I will be collected to get Marked. I don't want to be one of those followers, fearing the Dark Lord as much as everyone else, and forced to do his bidding as well. That's why I came to Professor Dumbledore.' here, Dumbledore stood and spoke;

'I was going to let Mr Malfoy join the Order-' Harry felt a surge of jealousy, and the remains of a 5-year hatred rekindled briefly;

'But you won't let _Me_! Why _Him_?'

'His Birthday is at the beginning of the school year, today in fact. He is now of age.'

'Yes, and being 17 means I can make my own decisions.' put in Malfoy.

'But I knew you would put up an argument, so I have declined at this time. However he and you will have a task when you are both ready. This year you will both train and prepare for your first and assignment as members of the Order of the Phoenix. On Harry's birthday you will both be induced, then depart on a mission which, if successful, will be the downfall of Lord Voldemort. I will say no more now, but I would like you both to pay attention to your lessons this year, and come to meet me here on Saturday evening, say...eight o'clock? Now, off to bed both of you.'

As they all descended the moving staircase, Dumbledore gave them a few final words, then departed, leaving Harry and Malfoy standing outside the stone gargoyle.

'Remember, "Canary Cream" at eight, Saturday.'

'I know, Harry. I was there too, remember?'

'Don't get smart wi' me, Malfoy.'

'Don't worry, it's just the way I am - I usually don't mean anything by it. Anyway, if you're Harry, why'm I still "Malfoy"? I don't actually enjoy being a Malfoy, you know.'

'Oh, OK...er...Draco? -God that sounds weird- but yeah, I can take friendly teasing, if that's all it is.'

'Cool.'

'Erm...'

'Yeah?'

'How you gonna be wi' me round your mates?'

'You mean the other Slytherins?'

'Yeah'

'Dunno, just remember if I do have to insult you, I'm pissin about.'

'K, see ya, Draco.'

'See ya, Harry' They walked in opposite directions, Harry desperate to get to bed and rest his aching brain.

* * *

Wow! I never thought I'd actually finish that. Again, rr so I can improve. D'you lot think Dumbledore's in character? coz I'm not sure...

Thanks to 'Lothmeldo', I hope this fic uploads the way it was originally formatted.


	3. NEWTs

DISCLAIMER: I would just like assure you that your reviews make a huge difference to the quality of the story. As always, I don't own Harry Potter, JKR does. If you feel you need to flame, please do. I find them amusing. Hell, just enjoy!

* * *

It was so grey it was still dark when Harry went down to breakfast next morning, nobody really felt like talking, so they ate their breakfast in silence. He had of course, told Ron and Hermione everything that had happened in Dumbledore's office. He was surprised to see them both talking civilly to each other, given that they were usually bickering. When their new timetables were passed down the table to them, Harry let Ron scan his, then throw it aside.

'Can I check yours to see if it's the same?'

'Go ahead'

'Cool, you've got Transfiguration when I've got History of Magic, and Potions when I've got Muggle Studies but apart from that it's all the same.' Harry barely remembered lying in a hospital bed at the end of last year telling Ron which subjects to sign him up for. Following Professor McGonagall's advice about a career as an Auror, he had signed up for Defence, Transfiguration, Potions and Charms. He had then signed up for Care of Magical Creatures to fill up his timetable and his quota of 5 NEWTs. They were to spend a lot more lesson time on each subject this year, to compensate for the huge workload.

'Wassup now?'

'Whole morning of Charms, I just hope he let's us out for a break halfway through.'

'Mmm...'

's'matter , Harry?'

'Snape.'

'Don't worry 'bout it, Harry. I mean, Dumbledore wouldn't let 'im screw with your future, would he?'

'Nah, s'pose not. Come on.' Harry's eyes were now on Draco, who was walking in the opposite direction to Crabbe and Goyle, and was walking the same route as Harry and Ron. He turned all the same corners, merely a few feet in front of them, and even stopped where they were going to.

'I just hope he lets us learn.' said Hermione. It transpired that she had been a few steps behind them all the way, but apparently, Harry was too moody to notice.

'Sorry 'Mione, it's the weather.' She opened her mouth but shut it again immediately. Harry and Ron followed her eyes to Professor Flitwick, who was levitating at the head of the queue. He addressed the class in a solemn manner;

'I will only let you in this room if you promise to work hard and not to stop others learning for the rest of the year. If you step through this door, be prepared to do so. Right! Come on in then...' Most of the lesson was taken up with course aims and recapping what they had previously done. When they all got up to leave, Harry noticed for the first time exactly who was in his class. There were quite a few Ravenclaws, some Hufflepuffs who Harry was friendly with, not many Gryffindors and a group of four or five Slytherins. Among these were Draco and another boy who Harry had only seen a few times before, one Blaise Zabini. Blaise Zabini seemed to be giving Draco some trouble as they came out of class, even to the point where Draco faced the group and spoke coldly to them, after which they fell quiet and followed him out of the class.

As they went to lunch they discussed their afternoon's lesson; Care of Magical Creatures.

'I bet you my Christmas present' said Ron, 'that Hagrid'll start the year with something lethal.'

'Well you'll have to tell me about it tonight' said Hermione.

'What, you're not doin CMC?'

'No. Much as I'd like to put my life in serious danger two afternoons a week, I'm doing Arithmancy instead.' she replied. Harry decided it didn't suit her when her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

They proceeded down to Hagrid's hut with apprehension. It appeared that Ron had voiced what everyone else was thinking. This class only had a dozen people in it; Hagrid's reputation seemed to have scared off applicants. Harry, Ron and Seamus seemed to be the only Gryffindors in the class, who were all of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

'Where _IS_ everyone?' asked Seamus. 'There can't be that many people in other classes can there? I mean, if they're all this empty then there's gotta be a good half of the year just disappeared. Just fucked off somewhere...' he waved his hand towards the mountains. At that moment Hagrid stepped out of the forest and sat down on a huge log beside his hut.

'OK, this year'll be mostly practical, but that don't mean yeh can jus' ferget yer writin' equipmen'. We'll be doin a lot this year, from Faeries to Dementors, an' no, we won't bring one in.' said Hagrid, seeing the faces that followed this last piece of information and laughing. 'OK, books out and get this down, this is a rough outline of the year...' The rest of the lesson continued in this vain, and ended with the homework of remembering their thick gloves for Wednesday. They went to dinner feeling little less apprehensive that when they went. Once again, Ron voiced everyone else's concern;

'What the fuck is Hagrid gonna bring in that you need dragon hide gloves for?'

'Fuck knows, but it's not gonna be particularly good for your health, whatever it is. How was Arithmancy?'

'What? I don't do Arithmancy.'

'I'm not talkin to you, thickshit.' said Harry, grinning. Hermione was walking behind Ron, barely inches from him, grinning at his un-awareness. Ron spun round and walked backwards as he spoke, but Hermione kept her proximity.

'You'd make a good stalker.' he said grinning.

'No, _you'd_ make a _bad_ guard.' she replied, also grinning. This was more than Harry could stand. Had they said exactly the same things last year, they'd be at each other's throats.

'Why're you two so fuckin happy today?' Hermione looked at Ron, nodded at him, then rushed off for dinner. Ron went red, and examined his shoes.

'Well?'

'Well what?'

'Don't make me hit you.'

'Okay, okay. Well...' Ron screwed up his face and pushed the words out. 'Me and 'Mione have decided to make a go of it.'

'What, you mean...in a 'toghethery' kinda way?'

'Um...yeah.'

'oookaaay. Um, well! Um, well done I s'pose - I mean - er...'

'What?'

'It's not bad, don't get me wrong, it's just weird coz you're both my mates.'

'Oh, OK'

'Have you er-' Harry made a pumping motion with his arm.

'No! I mean, well' Ron flashed a grin then returned to his worried look. 'I think girls usually wanna take a bit more time, don't they? But when she wants to...' he made his own pumping motion. They laughed as they went through the front doors.

It felt good, decided Harry. He'd much rather be here talking to Ron about fucking his girl than kicking Voldemort's arse. Oh well, he thought. At least the Voldemort path needed Bad-Ass Harry, and Bad-Ass Harry had it's fun moments.

'Hey 'Mione, heard the news, just don't turn my best mate into a book worm, right?' Harry joked as he threw himself over an armchair opposite his other best friend. They were in the common room, having missed Hermione at dinner. At transpired that she was so embarrassed that she had rushed dinner, so much so that Neville had asked her if she had an eating disorder. Neville was now in a corner with Dean and Seamus talking about the Herbology lesson he had just had. Herbology seemed to be the only subject that Neville was any good at, with the possible exception of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Although he was good, Harry doubted Neville would advance much in this field, not with Snape teaching it. It was this thought that provoked him and Ron to spend a relaxing evening bitching about the ex-potions master.

* * *

When the time came to finally meet his least favourite teacher (which was only the next morning), Harry was of the mind that he would maybe go back to teaching himself.

There seemed to be quite a few more people in the Defence class than either of Harry's other lessons so far. It seemed that there was most of the year in this class, save the Slytherins. Draco seemed to be the only person from his house in the room.

'Hey guys, let him sit here. We got a spare seat.' Draco was standing in the middle of the classroom looking about for a seat, and being refused a place when one did appear. Ron seemed to be just as adverse to letting the Slytherin sit next to him as the rest of the class.

'Let him feel what it's like to be on the receivin' end.'

'Oh, come on Ron. Look, I'll budge up and he can sit on the end of the row.' Harry put his words into action, allowing Draco sit with them. This attracted a lot of dirty looks from his classmates. Many even muttered offensively under their breath.

'Mind your own fuckin' business!' said Harry and Draco together.

Snape swept in looking very smug shortly afterwards.

'Now that you have a competent teacher for this subject, I will expect grades to go up. If they do not I will want to know why.' He began dangerously 'Furthermore, the subject matter has changed slightly this year due to _current events_. Potter!' he shot, 'What is the incantation required to perform a Disarming Spell?'

'_Expelliarmus._' and when Snape didn't answer; '_Expelliarmus_ sir.'

'Good.' he said, looking ever smugger. 'Finch-Fletchley, the Stunning Spell?'

'_Stupefy_, sir'

'Good. Abbott, the Reductor Curse?'

'_Reducto_, sir?'

'Correct. Fawcett, the Impediment Jinx?'

'er, _Impedimenta_, sir.'

'Your spell knowledge seems to be adequate for your age. This year I will build on that knowledge, as well as teaching you to recognise what spell a person has been inflicted with, so that you can effectively perform the correct counter-spell. You will learn these counter-spells, and we will touch upon potions. Similarly, those of you who are taking potions will find yourselves touching upon Defence Against the Dark Arts.'

Snape then took the register, and surveyed the class. He noted the fact that Harry and Draco were sitting together, but did not mention it.

'Oh my god, I have NEVER seen an ego that big in my life. You?'

'Nah. It'd be alright if he did what he said, but he won't. You know he's just gonna take the piss and be an arsehole for the whole year.'

They were walking to lunch, having just endured a whole morning of Snape trying to find something they didn't know. In the end he had had to resort to NEWT material, and ignore Hermione. Hermione seemed to be of the opinion that Snape could be a good defence teacher, given that they gave him a chance. She and Ron were walking with their arms round each other's waist; they seemed to be over the embarrassment.

After lunch Ron left them to go to Muggle Studies; he didn't get a high enough grade to do NEWT Potions. 'As if I want to.' he had said. Actually, Harry was amazed that _he_ had scraped through.

'I s'pose we'd better get goin too. I dunno what this Professor Thompson is like for punctuality.' And so they set off. It appeared that Professor Thompson did _not_ set much store by punctuality at all, being a quarter of an hour late herself.

'Sorry about that, I was in a deep conversation with Professor Sprout.' she bustled, 'Now, this year will be a bit different from your previous years of Potions.' Harry and Hermione exchanged an apprehensive look.

'What we'll do is learn the properties of an ingredient, and how it affects other ingredients, then after a while, we'll see if you can't pick the correct ingredients to make a potion. Sound good?' It sounded like complete bullshit to Harry, but if it worked.

The week went fairly swiftly, with Harry's first Transfiguration lesson fairly successful. He was amazed when the weekend came, for it had been Harry's fastest first week back in his school career. There was of course another thing that marked the weekend; the upcoming meeting with Dumbledore, and on Saturday evening Harry found himself waiting in the office a good quarter of an hour early. Draco turned up a few minutes later;

'Can't wait either?'

'Nah, I wanna know what this is all about.'

'Same here. Hey Draco, what d'you think of old Snapey this year?'

'He's a bit of an arse aint he?'

'A _bit_?'

'Good point. Good evening Professor.' Dumbledore had just joined them.

'I shall waste no time, gentlemen. Let me tell you why you are here.'

* * *

You might have to wait a bit for the next one; I'm a bit tied up for the next few weeks. I suppose it depends on how many of you rr.


	4. The Real Draco Malfoy

Before I get started, I know the chapters are gradually becoming more detailed, this is because I started the fic with the intention of it being a short fic. I guess the idea just evolved.

DISCLAIMER: I would just like assure you that your reviews make a huge difference to the quality of the story. All together now...I don't own Harry Potter, JKR does. If you feel you need to flame, please do. I find them amusing. Hell, just enjoy!

continuing from last chapter, Dumbledore speaking to Harry and Malfoy in his office...

* * *

'In July, that is to say, on Harry's birthday, you will both be proceeding by broomstick to the Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire. You will complete a search of the manor to ascertain whether or not Lord Voldemort has taken up residence anywhere, or whether he is remaining mobile. Wherever he is, you will find him and carefully follow these instructions:' Dumbledore drew a small glass vial from his robes, containing a glittering silver liquid. 'This is the last remaining elixir of life. With it I will try to invoke an ancient magic of which no-one really knows. Once you have tracked down Lord Voldemort, I am counting on him attempting to kill you. I know how it sounds but you must follow these instructions to the letter. How you do it is up to you, but you must ensure that Lord Voldemort performs the Avada Kedavra curse on this Elixir. 

As I was saying a few moments ago the course of action most likely to succeed is to lure him to kill you. Then to use those reflexes gifted to you, and honed so well by Quidditch, to place this vial in the way of the curse.

When the two most powerful opposites in existence meet, the performers of those opposites will be stripped of all the power they possess. I will simplify; when Lord Voldemort kills the Elixir of Life, both he and Nicholas Flamel will become mortal, non-magical human beings. You will then be able to kill Lord Voldemort and fulfil the prophecy. But be warned Harry; because of the delicate balance of this phenomenon, and the disruption to the essence of magic itself, to kill Lord Voldemort in any other way than that of a mortal death would be catastrophic. You must kill Lord Voldemort without magic, Harry.'

Every word Dumbledore had said up until then had grown quieter. He shook his head, then continued in a clearer voice;

'Everything up to that point will be aided by Mr Malfoy here. He is the only student in this school who is an accomplished Occlumens' –He flashed a smile- 'You didn't seem to learn much with Professor Snape, maybe Draco can bring out the best in you. He also has extensive knowledge of the darker side of magic and the culture of the people who use it.

Everyone in the Order knows of my plan, but no-one else does, so please don't mention it,' here he looked directly into Harry's eyes 'to _anyone_. Now I'm sure I will see you boys later, but I have a busy day tomorrow so if that's all?'

His only answer was silence.

'Excellent, then I shall bid you good evening.' He showed them out of his office then disappeared back into it. Dumbledore had hinted that Harry was not to tell Ron and Hermione of the plan, so going back to the Gryffindor tower seemed a very daunting prospect to Harry right now.

'Er, Draco?'

'Yeah?'

'D'you, er, fancy a walk?'

Draco looked straight into Harry's eyes and seemed to see his predicament there.

'Sure'

They talked as they walked, talking about anything and everything, walking for hours – not going anywhere in particular. Fate was kind to them that night; they saw nothing of Filch nor Mrs Norris. They talked about each other's less-than-desirable upbringings, thoughts and feelings. He suspected that it was the same for Draco, but Harry talked about everything he had ever thought about or felt about that night. At midnight Harry felt he knew Draco better than he knew Ron – he had certainly told Draco things he had never told Ron before. He didn't know why he and Ron had never had talks like this before (and though his brain loyally stood up for Ron, his heart knew it was probably because Ron wasn't the brightest star in the sky) but why was he talking like this to _Draco Malfoy?_ This wasn't the Draco he knew, that was why. This was a man who, despite his sincerest efforts, _did_ think, and _did_ feel.. then Draco asked him the thing he had been half-expecting all night:

'Harry?'

'Uh-huh?'

'Can you remember your parents?' Harry stopped walking and looked at Draco. Why did he find Draco so approachable on the subject?

'I don't actually remember them at all. nothing good anyway...'

'What d'you mean?'

'All I can remember is _that_ night. My Dad standing to fight Voldemort to give my Mum time to run for it, my mum refusing to move, begging Voldemort to kill her instead.' Harry felt a great movement inside him, his eyes pricked.

'Do you cry about them?' Rita Skeeter. How could he be quoting that old article now?

'No.'

'D'you need to?'

He knew. Draco knew and he understood. He understood how much it hurt... Something broke inside Harry. Like a great wall it smashed, letting the emotion welling behind it to flood forwards. It was something he had never done before, but it came. He cried. He cried about his parents, his childhood, Dudley's bullying, everything that had happened since he came to Hogwarts, the stress of being the constant centre of attention, and Sirius. All the while Draco was there, holding him, knowing, understanding, comforting. Harry wept into Draco's arms, and when it was over they drew apart.

'Thanks Draco, I think I needed that.'

'I know. I do think you need to go to bed now, though.'

'Yeah, I s'pose.'

At the entrance to the Fat Lady's corridor Draco paused. 'Listen Harry, she doesn't like me, she'll only get me bollocked for being out late.'

'K, fair enough.'

'I'm always here okay?'

'Yeah.' He kissed Draco goodnight and made to leave. Then it registered; HE _KISSED_ DRACO GOODNIGHT!

'Oh my god Draco, I'm sorry!'

'Why?' Draco was looking very softly at him.

'What?'

'Harry, if I didn't like it you'd know.'

'I didn't mean to, it was just natural.'

'You wanna do it again?' Harry was stunned by this offer, but when words found their way unbidden past his lips he knew they spoke the truth;

'Hell yeah.'

When he stumbled into bed 5 minutes later, he nearly fell straight to sleep fully clothed. The only problem was that every time he moved, something crackled. He drew a piece of parchment from his pocket, a piece of parchment he didn't remember being there. It was a small scrap, with sweeping black letters on it: "You are not alone, Draco"

* * *

Harry woke up next morning to find Ron talking to him.

'...glad we did that homework yesterday, I can have a nice relaxing Sunday now. What's that?' Harry was still clutching Draco's letter.

'Nothing' he went to stow the letter back in his pocket.

'No come on, what is it?' Ron snatched the parchment and scanned it, then dropped the parchment and looked at Harry with a hostility in his eyes Harry had never seen there before.

'I think you'd better tell me what the fuck's going on.'

'Ron...'

'Why have you got a parchment from Malfoy?'

'Ron listen...'

'Why the _fuck_ are you sleeping with it?'

'Ron let me explain...'

'What's between you two?'

'Ron please...'

'Why didn't I know?'

'No no, it's not...'

'Is this why you let him sit with us in Defence?'

'Come on Ron, listen to me...'

'What does "You are not alone" mean?'

'It means there's someone out there who understands me!' Harry's temper, which had been drastically subdued by Ron's onslaught, rose again.

'_I_ understand you!'

'Understands what I need!'

'Malfoy?' asked Ron incredulously.

'Draco!'

'Oh, _Draco_ now, is it? Well why don't you run off and cry to _Draco_!'

'I did.' said Harry quietly.

'...and while – WHAT?'

'I said I did.' Ron merely stood, looking gobsmacked. 'For the first time in my life I cried. Draco was there, he held me.'

'He WHAT?'

'He HELD ME! You know what? Hermione was right last year, you _do_ have the emotional range of a teaspoon!' With that he stormed out of the dormitory, slamming the door with all his strength. Everyone in the common room stopped what they were doing and looked up at the noise.

'What?' he shouted forcibly, and the activity resumed. The door behind him exploded, covering Harry with splinters. Ron stepped through the wreckage, red in the face and in a towering temper.

'Don't you lose your fucking rag with me, Potter!'

'Oh, fuck off Ron.' He turned away and started down the stairs. He felt Ron's hand on his shoulder and stepped away, shoving Ron's arm off as he did so. The only problem was that "off" meant "down the stairs" – all the way down the stairs.

As he surveyed the damage before him, and the crowd of people clamouring round Ron's unconscious body, only one word was necessary to sum up Harry's opinion of the situation – 'Shit.'

* * *

So how was that then? Lot's of raw emotions in this chap I know, but don't worry, bad-ass Harry will be back! I don't purposefully finish with cliff-hangers I promise! 

Criticism is always welcome. In fact the more people rr the better, even if it's negative.

I know the chapters are very short, but I'm foregoing long chapters in favour of more frequent updates. Coming up: The aftermath, and a nice surprise.


	5. The Aftermath

DISCLAIMER: I would just like assure you that your reviews make a huge difference to the quality of the story. All together now...I don't own Harry Potter, JKR does. If you feel you need to flame, please do. I find them amusing. Hell, just enjoy!

* * *

When Professor McGonagall arrived 5 minutes later, nobody had moved much. Harry was still standing at the top of the stairs, Ron was still unconscious on the floor and the crowd was still buzzing round the casualty, not really knowing what to do.

McGonagall addressed the crowd.

'What happened?'

'Potter pushed him, Professor!' That wasn't on, thought Harry.

'Come off it, he fell!' he retorted. He didn't know why he bothered, McGonagall still beckoned to him and led him out of the common room, passing Madam Pomfrey on the way out. She led him all the way down to her office, where she held the door open for him then strode round her desk to face him.

'Sit.' He sat. 'You will write down exactly what happened,' –she placed a piece of parchment in front of him, it had the Hogwarts crest at the top- 'I will be back in five minutes.'

When she returned as promised, Harry had written _exactly_ what had happened-all two lines of it. By the look on Professor McGonagall's face, she had expected more than that. She took a pinch of Floo powder from the pot on her desk and cast it into her fire.

'Potter's statement, Headmaster.' She said as she handed the parchment into the flames. 'Because of the nature of this attack, I feel that Potter cannot be trusted with other students at this time.'

Dumbledore's voice answered;

'I agree Professor, a letter will be sent to his home. Please isolate him for now.'

Harry felt helpless; he hadn't meant for Ron to fall, but nobody seemed to care. Everyone was treating him as "dangerous". He was led to a room halfway up the astronomy tower.

'I'm sorry Potter, but we have to follow school rules in situations like these.' Said Professor McGonagall, for it was she who had led him to this room. 'Wait here.' Then he was left alone. He heard the door lock. It wasn't fair, why was everyone being so...so...argh! Harry lost his temper like he had never done before. Tables and chairs went flying, some hit walls and smashed.

He was nearly out of things to break when the door opened behind him. Harry stood in the middle of the destruction, looking lethally at Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge and a tall man with long jet-black hair. The man surveyed the room with one glance and turned to Dumbledore;

'Proves my point, Dumbledore! I don't want this boy at school with my son.' He said in a sharp malicious voice.

'If you have a problem with the school, Mr Zabini, you are perfectly entitled to make an official complaint. At this very moment, however, that is slightly impossible. Good morning, Mr Zabini.' Replied Dumbledore, with his contrasting quiet nevertheless energetic voice. Mr Zabini looked highly affronted, turned on his heel and stalked off.

'He has got a point though, Dumbledore.' said Fudge.

'Cornelius, please remember that you are here on my invitation. Don't give me reason to ask you to leave too.' –He turned to Harry- 'This is one of the reasons why I put you in close proximity to Draco Malfoy. I expected an incident like this-'

'It was an ACCIDENT!'

'Either way, young Master Malfoy has an excellent method of controlling his anger. I was hoping he would pass it on. He might yet, but this particular incident is now outside his control; we must follow school rules.'

'You will remain in isolation until Mr Weasley regains consciousness, he will then confirm or deny your statement. If it truly _was_ an accident, no more action will be taken. If he decides to accuse you, I will explain further proceedings at that point.' Harry was at a loss for words.

'So how long will that be?' he asked.

'Madam Pomfrey says no more than twenty-four hours.'

'He's in the hospital wing, then? I mean, he's not in St Mungo's?' That was something, at least it wasn't that serious.

'He is. I must go now, Harry. Oh,-' he handed Harry a golden plate '-I do apologise, I nearly forgot. If you wish to eat tonight, you will need that plate. Please do not destroy it or-' he glanced over Harry's shoulder '-frisbee it out the window.' Harry saw the old twinkle in the headmaster's eyes and smiled.

'I won't, sir.'

* * *

Harry's day crawled by slowly, and Harry, like at the beginning of last year, alternated between states of extreme lethargy and being so pissed off it hurt.

The sun was high in the sky and Harry was lying sprawled across a table when his lunch appeared on the golden plate next to him. As he ate, he was sure he heard a light tapping on the door.

'Hello?'

'Harry, it's me.'

'Draco! What the fuck're you doin' ere?'

'Later. Do you have a plate from the Great Hall?'

'Yeah, what's goin' on Draco?'

'How d'you get into the kitchens?'

Harry told him.

'Cool, gotta go.'

'Wait! I ain't spoken to anyone all day!' but Draco was gone.

* * *

Darkness had fallen when, as Harry had almost given up hope, his dinner magically appeared. The wall was pockmarked, where Harry had spent all day sending random spells at it. He was just tucking in to his shepherd's pie when he noticed a small roll of parchment on his plate. It had a slightly familiar, seeping quality to it, and read:

_"Hey Harry! I'm using the same magical link as the house-elves to send up food to the plates in the Great Hall. I'm in the kitchens now, so you can answer on the parchment and I'll get it when the elves recall the leftovers._

_Wassup anyway? Everyone says you blasted Weasley through a door, then threw him down some stairs. No-one seems to know why, though. He's apparently still in the hospital wing recovering._

_Please reply, unfortunately I can't use the link again till tomorrow, so I'll speak to you when you get out._

_Draco"_

Harry had written his reply by the time he had finished eating;

_"Hey Draco, doesn't life suck?_

_You know how rumours go and no, I didn't do anything of the sort. Ron Reductored the door, and then when he tried to have a go at me he fell down the stairs._

_Tell me if Ron comes out of the hospital wing,_

_Harry"_

He returned to his worries, and destroying the wall.

A squashy purple sleeping bag appeared later, and, having nothing to do, Harry went straight to bed.

* * *

The door opening was what woke Harry up next morning. He looked drearily at the figure in the doorway and then put his glasses on.

'What're ya doin' up here?' It was Ron

'Ron! Oh thank god.'

'Come on, Breakfast!'

They sprinted down to the Great hall, both laughing about the shit Harry was _nearly_ in. Just before they reached the Entrance Hall, Ron stopped Harry.

'This doesn't mean I've forgotten about Malfoy, but there's a time and a place.'

'Cheers Ron. I'll tell you I swear.'

'Yeah, yeah. Can I eat now?'

But as they entered the Great Hall, it became apparent that Ron was more forgiving than the rest of the school. Most did nothing to hide their hostility, and a great roar went up and they passed the Slytherin table. They were congratulating Harry on nearly killing Ron, and seemed to think it was hilarious. A flash of silver-blonde hair was visible, laughing with the rest, then it was gone. In fact, all through breakfast the Hall was full of a sort of angry buzzing noise – not that Harry cared. He was just standing up when the post arrived. After glancing up and not seeing a speck of white among the mass, Harry turned to leave – that was until an official-looking owl landed on his shoulder. He took off the parchment and the owl took flight immediately.

"Dear Mr H Potter

Congratulations, you have been selected as Team Captain for Gryffindor House Quidditch Team. Please note that the position of Chaser (x2) needs to be filled before your first match, which is on the 1st of November. Tryouts will be held at your discretion, please see Madam Hooch for booking of the Quidditch Pitch.

Head of Gryffindor House,

Minerva McGonagall"

Harry and Ron exchanged looks.

'"Captain and Seeker" eh?' said Ron.

'Yeah...' Harry was still trying to register the information.

'Sounds good, suits you.' Harry looked at him, it was starting to sink in.

'Cheers.'

'If I were you, I'd kick Kirke and Sloper off and have tryouts for new beaters, too. I wouldn't be surprised if you kicked me off as well.'

'Oh, stop it, you ain't goin' nowhere.' He didn't have time for Ron's sorrow, he was Quidditch Captain. A grin slowly spread across his face. He felt good, he was QUIDDITCH CAPTAIN! He was invincible, nothing could stop him. He was on top of the world, he was the BEST.

'Where's 'Mione? I wanna tell her.'

'You know what? I haven't seen her since Saturday.' said Ron looking worried.

'I'm sure she's fine.' said Harry. Nothing could bring him down from this feeling just yet.

'Yeah, okay. Come on, Charms.'

* * *

It was long since dark when Harry finished. He had been busy since the end of lessons doing homework, and writing up posters for tryouts. He had taken Ron's advice and opened up the Beater slots too. Ron was worried, Hermione had not been seen since Saturday. He was on the point of going to Professor McGonagall when Hermione herself climbed through the portrait hole. Ron was first to her.

''Mione! Where the fuck have you been?'

'What? Oh, nowhere. Hermione was always a bad liar. She looked very tired.

* * *

Well, there it is! Thanks to: lothmeldo, yummyguitars and Kellie Mclean for the reviews so far.

PLEASE: If you read it, why not review it? I need lots of peeps to readreview so that i can improve - good, bad, I don't care. So if you want me to improve, or you just wanna see your name posted up, REVIEW MY FUCKING FIC!


	6. It Begins

CALLING ALL AUTHORS ----- IN THE NEXT CHAPTER I HOPE TO WRITE SOME KIND OF SLASH SCENE BETWEEN HARRY AND DRACO. I CANNOT DO THIS WITHOUT YOUR HELP. PLEASE REVIEW AND INCLUDE TIPS FOR ME.

There seems to be a great lack of reviewing going on here, so whether you liked it or no, please review.

DISCLAIMER: All together now...I don't own Harry Potter, JKR does. If you feel you need to flame, please do. I find them amusing. Hell, just enjoy!

* * *

September drizzled out and October burst into a fiery second summer, which is why Harry could be found one Saturday laying sprawled on the sandy bank of the lake next to a topless Ron and an overheating Hermione, who was frantically fanning herself with that day's edition of the _Daily Prophet_. Ron had finally stopped growing and begun to fill out, leaving his torso toned and fit. Hermione at least seemed to be unable to keep her eyes off it. There were long brown scars across his collar bones all the way down to his elbows, relics of the memories that had wrapped themselves round him in the Brain Room of the Department of Mysteries. 

However far from being ugly, Harry had been told by numerous people that they looked rather artful. Harry didn't think so, every time he saw them he was reminded just how close he had brought his friends to mortal peril. That didn't stop a headstrong Ravenclaw fifth-year asking Ron how he could get the same thing done to him.

'Urgh, Weasley, what are _those?_' Draco was standing right behind them, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

'What d'you mean?' asked Ron aggressively.

'Those scratches on that thing you call a body.' People were looking round, and the Slytherins among them started to laugh.

'You mean my scars?'

'Yes Weasel, those scratches. Tell me if I'm wrong, but am I right in saying that you got them because Potter loves playing the hero?' Pansy Parkinson, who had come and wrapped herself round Draco, let out a snort of laughter.

'Fuck off, Malfoy.' said Ron.

'Or was it because you wanted a scar like Potter? Thought it'd make you famous? Thought you'd be Dumbledore's new favourite?' Draco continued.

'Just go away, Malfoy.' said Hermione.

'What kind of man needs his _girlfriend_ to stand up for him?' asked Draco.

'What kind of man creeps around in a mask, afraid to show his face?' retorted Ron hotly, referring quite deliberately to Draco's father. Draco ignored this.

'You know Weasel, if _that's_ the kind of girl those scratches attract, you'd be better off without them!' Draco smirked. Pansy shrieked with laughter. Harry couldn't work out what was going on; this wasn't Draco, this was Malfoy. To Harry there was a world of difference.

'At least he's _true to himself_.' Harry interjected, with a meaningful look at Draco. He swore he got a wink in reply. Then, ignoring Harry's comment, he said to Ron:

'I don't really know how you could bear to have your shirt off when it looks like you've been shat on by a flock of Oujimaflips.' before motioning to the cronies that had gathered round him and stalking off towards the castle.

'Don't listen to him Ron, you look gorgeous.' said Hermione.

'Yeah, cheers 'Mione. What do you think Harry?'

'Hey, don't take my word for it.' said Harry, 'Just look at the amount of people _not_ laughing.'

'Yeah, I suppose so.' said Ron.

'Listen,' said Harry, leaning closer, 'he didn't mean it, he's got to keep up appearances, you know?' then when Ron continued to look sceptical, 'I know I need to talk to you about him, let's have a chat tonight, yeah?'

'Yeah, whatever.' said Ron.

But when that night came, Harry had begun to wish he hadn't said anything. Ron's mood had not improved and Harry doubted if he would believe anything he said about Draco right now. Still, for Draco's sake he had to try.

'Uh, Ron?' he said, approaching a steaming Ron who had just told a group of frightened first-years off for no real reason.

He could see that Ron was resisting the urge to snap a hot reply. He settled for a simple 'What?'

'Do you, er, wanna talk about Draco now?' he asked.

Ron looked daggers at him.

'We don't have to.' Harry added quickly 'You just said you wanted to earlier.'

'Don't talk to me about that cock-muncher.'

'K, whatever Ron, but we need to talk sooner or later.' and with that he left Ron to his fuming.

* * *

This was the dungeons of Hogwarts as Harry had never seen it before. He was in a room that lacked the usual damp, cold aura of Snape's classroom. The whole place was lit with candles, a bed stood in the corner, school robes that had been stuffed with pillows hung from the ceiling, and in the middle of the stone floor sat Draco Malfoy. He uncrossed his legs and stood up as Harry entered. 

'Glad you could make it Harry.'

'Yeah, right, er...what is this place? It's not like the rest of the dungeons.'

'I think it was the old dungeon keeper's bedroom, I found it. I saw rats going through the wall under my bed so I pulled a few bricks out and found _this_ place. I saw the hole in the ceiling and climbed out to find myself behind the hourglasses in the entrance hall - the same way you came in, Harry.'

'Cool, but why are we _here_? What's all this about?'

'It's about you becoming a much more powerful wizard, Harry.'

'I don't get it.'

'Come here.' said Draco, leading Harry over to where he had hung one of the pillow-stuffed robes in the middle of the room.

'Hit the dummy,' he instructed.

'What?' Harry asked.

'It's very simple, just punch the dummy.' Draco replied. Harry did.

'Okay, now hit it again, with _all_ your strength.' Harry did. Draco moved round to stand behind him, and whispered in his ear.

'Relax, clear your mind. Now, think of me being an arsehole, bullying you and your friends since our first year, think of me trying to get Hagrid sacked, things like that. Think about it all, get worked up, get really pissed off, then hit the dummy again.'

Scenes from the last six years flooded Harry's mind, Draco trying to get Hagrid sacked, Draco quoting every Rita Skeeter article that had ever been published, Draco and the Weasel King song...' Harry let out a yell of frustration as all the things Draco had ever done burst through him, then let fly at the dummy in front of him. The string Draco had used to hang it up broke, and the dummy itself made a soft thud as it hit the opposite wall.

'Good!' exclaimed Draco, looking triumphant.

'What the hell was that all about?' asked Harry.

'You'll see.' said Draco, then he led Harry to a line of dummies hanging on the wall.

'Wand out Harry, send a Reductor curse down the line. Let's see how many you can destroy.'

Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket and shouted as he aimed down the line of dummies '_Reducto!_'.

Three dummies burst into clouds of feathers and a fourth poured feathers out of a hole in it's centre.

'Okay,' said Draco, 'come over to this line here and do the same.' Harry crossed the room and aimed at the other line of dummies. This was all very strange.

'Before you send the spell Harry, think of your parents. He robbed you of them forever. He murdered so many people simply because they were good, honest people.' He didn't need to say any more, for a mixture of grief and anger had risen within Harry, and at this very second he had only one channel of venting those emotions.

'_REDUCTO!!!_'

The spell surged down the line of dummies, obliterating the entire line of them and, with a deafening _CRACK_, shot a fissure in the solid stone wall at the end of the room.

'Excellent!' cried Draco. He looked even more triumphant than he had two minutes ago.

'Okay Draco, no more games. Why the fuck are you making me do all this?' Harry demanded.

'Oh, Harry! Isn't it obvious?' Draco asked. 'Look at the difference between your first punch and the one when you were pissed off! Look at the difference between your spell on those dummies over there and the line you just destroyed! Can't you see the difference? It comes down to this: Wizards, like all humans, are stronger and generally more powerful when they're angry. Emotions are both humankind's greatest strength and greatest weakness; learn to control them and make them work for you.'

'What d'you mean?' Harry asked, confused.

'If I had attacked you in both states, which would have done you more damage? When you were calm. It roots to the same thing, you're stronger when you're angry.'

'What's your point?'

'My point is, when you fight Him, which would you rather be? Angry right? Here's a fun fact for you. Every time you lose your temper about something you vent the wound and heal from it. Now, what if you kept calm about the situation? When you did finally break, it'd be for the first time and therefore be more volatile. A prime example is me, I've kept calm most of my life, so when I need it, I let just a little go, and am all the more powerful for it. Actually, I'm scared what I would be capable of if I _did_ break. D'you get what I'm on about?'

'Yeah. Yeah I do Draco, why didn't I think of that?'

'Because you just let it all out straight away. Next time I'll start teaching you how to bottle it all up 'till you need it, but for now you need rest, I've talked too much.'

'Whatever.' replied Harry.

'You get off to bed now, I know it's only nine but things like what I've told you tonight need a lot of rest from.'

'K, whatever.' Harry was already too tired to talk a lot, but something was nagging him from the back of his mind, something which needed to happen before he left.

'Umm, Harry?' Draco asked tentatively.

'Yeah?'

'D'you er, want a um, kiss goodnight?'

Harry didn't even reply, he just grabbed the front of Draco's robes and brushed his lips against Draco's. They kissed for what seemed like an eternity, then Harry felt something new – Draco's tongue dancing on his bottom lip. He opened his mouth and Draco continued his exploration. The kiss was probing and eager, but at the same time it wasn't too rough. He had decided that Draco was a good kisser before they even drew apart.

'Wow Dray, you _must_ be able to do better than Pansy Parkinson with a kiss like that.'

'I have now,' Draco replied, 'I've got you.'

'W-What?'

'Go out with me Harry, together we'd be unstoppable.'

Harry couldn't speak, he was in shock. Eventually, he answered the only way he could, he pulled Draco close and kissed him again.

'Together?' asked Draco.

'Welcome,' said Harry, 'to the Draco-Harry era.'

* * *

Duh-duh-duh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Ah, hell yeah! I dunno about you peeps, but _I'm_ starting to enjoy the fic now. If any, this is the chapter I'm most proud of.

Thank you 'lothmeldo', as always your comments (and praise) are greatly appreciated. Unfortunately, I have no other peeps to thank for the fic as it stands, because NO ONE BOTHERED TO REVIEW!!! Seriously, whether you enjoyed it or not, _please_ review.


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